


9 Hours

by HillaryLeonor



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 20th c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Elevator Sex, F/M, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-07 23:32:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HillaryLeonor/pseuds/HillaryLeonor
Summary: A study has shown that two people can fall in love in 45 minutes if they asked the right questions. So what will happen if the leading Democratic candidate for president and a hotshot, divorced New York lawyer got stuck inside an elevator for nine hours the night before the New York primary? Set 1992.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who has a lot of deadlines but decides to write another fic instead?

**_April 6, 1992_**  
**_37th Street Towers, Manhattan_**  
**_8:07 PM_**

Hillary, carrying two bags of groceries in her hands, stumbled as she pushed the glass doors with her upper arms. It was already past 8pm and the darkness had taken over New York. Hillary had took the time after work to replenish her house supplies. After surviving the long lines at the local Walmart, Hillary was looking forward to a nice long bath.

Hillary, one of the premiere legal minds in the country, was no stranger to the New York jungle. After graduating at Harvard in '73, she went home to Chicago and married her childhood sweetheart, Ethan Peterson. Their marriage seemed to lifted directly from a fairy tale. And a mythical one too. The fiercest US attorney in the country married to the most distinguished female lawyer. They were the power couple in the legal circles. She and Ethan thought they could shoot for the stars until one day, the news broke about Ethan's years of womanizing. She filed for divorce and represented herself in the court proceedings. She won the custody of their daughter, Chelsea and moved to New York. She had been living in there since.

Exhausted from carrying her groceries, she was about to press the up button near the elevators when Sandy Keane, her neighbor at the 23rd floor, called her from behind.

Hillary managed to roll her eyes before turning around and plastering a falsely sweet smile to greet her incredibly obnoxious neighbor.

**_April 6, 1992_**  
**_En route to 37th St. Towers_**  
**_8:09 PM_**

Bill Clinton, fresh from a rally in a school in Buffalo, felt giddy. The latest polls showed him leading against his rivals, Gov. Jerry Brown and Sen. Paul Tsongas. If he managed to win New York tomorrow, the delegate math would be impossible for Brown and Tsongas and he would be the presumptive Democratic nominee for president. He had come a long way since he placed third in New Hampshire. He had never been this close, and he could almost taste victory.

Being youngest governor in the country, Bill Clinton was a trailbazer. He was the only governor to be elected, lost and be elected governor again. He was also the youngest chairman of the National Governor's Association and if the voters would allow, he could be the youngest president since John F. Kennedy.

Another record that Bill was on the verge of breaking was that he would be the first unmarried president in the history of the United States. A serial dater and a ladies man, Bill was being clobbered by the media for his inability to find a long-time partner despite his oozing charm and handsome face. Like any other candidate, the most intimate details of his personal life were scrutinized, and for a while, he was under fire for dating multiple women at the same time. But the so-called Slick Willie was slippery. He managed to avoid being murdered by the controveries and snatched victories come Super Tuesday.

After his final rally before the New York primary, he left the venue immediately and went straight to 37th St. Towers  where his friend Jimmy lived. Jimmy, a longtime buddy of his who he had never see for a long time, invited him to dinner in his condo unit. Bill was so excited to see Jimmy that he immediately left his event without even a proper goodbye to his aides.

Bill pushed his thoughts of the primaries out of his mind.  He needed to relax and enjoy his time with Jimmy. He was looking forward to the food, the wine and the surely pleasant chatter with him. Until the polls open at 7am tomorrow, Bill Clinton would not give a fuck about the election.

**_April 6, 1992_**  
**_37th Street Towers, Manhattan_**  
**_8:23 PM_**

Hillary sighed, trying hard not to sound bored or annoyed. For fifteen minutes, she had been standing in the lobby, carrying heavy bags of groceries on both of her arms and listening to Sandy's incessant chatter, which Hillary gave zero fucks about. Whenever she was about to cut in and make an excuse to finally go up to her condo unit, Sandy would divert the conversation (which wasn't exactly a conversation because it was completely one-sided, she thought) to another topic and she would speak again and again and again...

But finally, Hillary caught her break when sirens from a motorcade caught Sandy's attention, and she used that momentary lapse to escape. To her relief, no one was waiting for the elevator. She pressed the up button, and one of the elevators opened its doors for her. She happily hopped inside, relief rushing through her.

Several moments inside the elevator had passed but nobody was coming in, but the doors weren't closing either. Suddenly, a group of men, all wearing suits and earpieces, entered the elevator and began scanning the surroundings. They introduced themselves as Secret Service. Hillary's eyes widened. A VIP must be going inside the building.

Without another word, the men left the elevator, and the tall, handsome form of Bill Clinton came into view as he got inside the elevator and stood next to her. 

A starstruck Hillary looked up at the presidential candidate, not realizing that she was holding her breath the entire time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am as excited for this fic as you are :)))

_**April 6, 1992**_  
_**37th Street Towers, Manhattan**_  
_**8:2**_ ** _5 PM_**

Hillary blinked as the weight of her grocery bags crushed her arms. The frontrunner for the Democratic presidential nomination stood next to her, but she her hands were too full, literally and figuratively, to let her even say a simple hello to the Governor.

Bill noticed the woman next to him struggling to carry the grocery bags on her arm. He stopped himself from laughing because she looked like an ant carrying a large sugar cube, but not in a bad way. She looked adorable. He could tell that she was a careerwoman, judging by her tailored blouse and skirt that he usually saw in the high-ranking female employees of the state capitol. He was not, however, used to seeing high-ranking careerwomen struggling to carry their groceries up in the elevator. His Southern gentleman instincts kicked him, and Bill saw himself getting one of the grocery bags and carrying it in his arm.

"Let me help you, Ma'am," he said in this thick Southern accent. "I'll carry this one."

"Oh!" Hillary was caught off guard. She never had a governor, let a lone a man who could be president in a few months, offer to carry her groceries. "Thank you, Governor."

"Pleasure's all mine, Ma'am," he said. He could tell that relief was written all over her face.

"What's your name?" "Hillary Rodham, and I live on the 23rd floor," she said. "Where are you going, Governor?"

"29th," he said, silently noticing the bright blue hues of her eyes. "I'm visiting a friend."

"I see," she said. "I hope you win tomorrow."

"Thank you," Bill told her gratefully. He was always glad whenever people would express their support for his candidacy, and this was no exception. "I am glad that I can count on your vote."

Hillary had always been supportive of him and his policies, but that was not to say she approved of him all the time. "I saw your plans for early childhood education," she said. "Those two issues are close to my heart. No other candidate had even touched them on their platforms. People usually take early childhood and public health for granted. Studies have already shown that investments on early childhood and public health could save the government billions of taxpayer dollars, but God knows what the insurance lobby has on Washington."

Bill blinked, a little bit surprised that a person he just met and spoke to for the first time was as versed in policy as him. "I try to include the kids when I draft my policies," he replied modestly.

"And I am grateful that you do," Hillary remarked truthfully. "How come you're so into early childhood and public health?" Bill asked with genuine curiosity. "Is that an advocacy of yours?"

"Actually, it is," she smiled, making it obvious to her companion that it held a special place in her heart. "When I was studying in law school, I worked in this legal clinic offering assistance to poor children and their families. I continued doing the work until I got my law license and then moved here to New York with my daughter."

_So she has a daughter_ , he thought. He caught her curious choice of words. Daughter. Not family. There was a good chance that she was separated or unmarried. "And you still do the important work up to this day?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Wow," he admired, "Thank God I'm not running against you. You're clearly smart and has a strong grasp on public policy. I'd probably lose against you in a debate."

Her eyes and cheeks clearly showed that she appreciated the complement. "I don't know about that," she tried to remain modest. "it's hard to run for office while being a woman. I'd be pummeled in the news everyday just for changing my hairstyle."

Bill had to admit: her predictions weren't exactly far off. He felt bad that women like Hillary who were smarter than him were being deterred from running for office just because of the viciousness that would welcome them the moment they set foot in the arena. "I'd like to have you in my cabinet, then," he said. "Or maybe a running mate."

"Oh please," she scoffed. "Can you imagine what the Times would write about you? Clinton picks inexperienced, divorced lawyer as VP to gain feminist vote."

_S_ _o she's divorced_ , he thought. Perhaps she was right in that pronouncement. But what caught his attention more was the hint of bitterness that hid in her voice when she said the word "divorced". He decided not to prod her further on that. He didn't have the right to pry in her affairs anyway. "Alright, then. No VP," said Bill. "But I'm definitely game with the cabinet post..."

"Is that how you talk with your girls, Governor?" she meant it as a quip, a joke. Obviously, they were quickly getting acclimated with each other. Hillary was letting her guard down a bit, and she thought he was too, but the mention of his numerous affairs struck a nerve on him. Bill, out of respect for her, remained silent.

It was a ringing signal to Hillary that he didn't want to touch on that topic, and the awkwardness and sudden discomfort made both of them squirm. Bill absentmindedly stepped sideways so that he could be a little farther away from Hillary, and she silently kicked herself for prying too much.

Amidst the awkward silnce, both of them noticed that the elevator doors were still open and they were still on the ground floor. Right. They both forgot they hadn't pressed the buttons yet, so as an act of courtesy, Hillary stepped towards the buttons and pressed 23 and 29.

"Thank you," Bill said in his uncharacteristically stony voice.

"You're welcome, Governor," she replied. Suddenly, calling him Governor felt too cold and stiff when she was calling him exactly that a few minutes ago. The doors had closed, and they were left alone to themselves.

Just to escape the tension, Hillary simply looked at the small screen on top of the door that showed what floor they were in. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10... But before the number 11 flashed, the lights had gone out, and the elevator suddenly stopped. The sudden halt caused Bill and Hillary to lurch sidewards, and thankfully, they manage to grasp the handle bars so they didn't fall. The lights flares up at first, and then they flickered until before they went out completely.

Hillary's breath trembled. They were left in the very thick darkness that she couldn't recognize the difference between her eyes closed and her eyes opened. Bill, on the other hand, swallowed deeply. He looked around and he saw himself in a dark abyss. If he didn't know he was riding in an elevator, he would think he was floating in a vacuum, except that there was air and a few feet from him was a woman who just made a distasteful quip about a few minutes ago. Great. Just great, he thought. Sure, he was afraid that the elevator might fall and their bodies would be crushed to death, but there is this little part of him that he was stuck with Hillary.

"Are you still there?" Hillary called out.

"Yeah," Bill responded curtly. He heard the soft taps of her footsteps and judging from the pressing sounds, she was trying to find the emergency button. "Fuck," Hillary whispered. "We can't get help. The power's down."

_No kidding_ , he thought.

"We'll have to wait until the power is restored. The emergency power supply should be up soon," she assured him. Right. Bill nodded in response, because he didn't really want to talk to her, but he realized that she couldn't see her, so he muttered a low "Thanks. I'll hope they'll fix it soon."

Hillary caught the lowness of his voice. She was figured she was still in the doghouse, and it was best not to talk to him further. Sure, she was a voter and he should be pleasant to her, but presidential candidates were allowed to let their hair down. And besides, what she said was out of line.

Suddenly, the lights flickered back, and when Bill and Hillary saw each other again, the traces of fear were evident on their faces. The gasped in relief. Thank God the lights were back.

The two of them waited for the elevator to move, but they remained still, hanging in the midair some 100 feet above the ground. The air felt stuffy and unbearable, all thanks to Hillary's mouth. To their relief, a voice came out from the speaker above them.

"This is Officer Kenneth Master from Security. Checking Elevator D. Is anyone there?" said a man's voice.

"Yes!" They exclaimed in unison. "Is Governor Clinton there?" asked Master.

"I'm here," Bill replied. "And the other occupant?" "Hillary Rodham, Unit 2312," she replied on cue.

"Alright, Governor and Ms. Rodham," said Master, "Right now, we are running on emergency power. This should be enough to last until the power is restored. We are still investigating why the main power supply was cut. However, the power failure suddenly caused some damage on the elevator systems. Obviously, the elevator should work properly. We are now fixing the issue."

"How long are we stuck in here?" asked Bill. "We can't say for sure, Governor. But we are working double time to get you out there as soon as possible."

"Please work as fast as you can, Sir," Hillary said. "I have a daughter waiting for me in my unit."

"Alright, Ma'am. But it takes us longer than we expected, we'll make contact with your daughter and let her speak to you. What's your daughter's name, by the way?"

"Chelsea Rodham, Sir."

"Noted, Ma'am."

"Officer, aren't we going to run out of air?" asked Bill. "No, Governor. Our elevator units are built with air vents. You should be fine," said Master. Master's assurances didn't assuage Bill's concerns, but it would have to do for now.

"Is there anything I can help you out with?"

"No," they replied. "Alright. I'll keep you updated once in a while on our progress. Hopefully, you'll be out in no time."

And with that, Bill and Hillary were again left alone in silence. Bill, the numbness from his fear slowly melting away, suddenly was becoming aware of strain in his arms. He had forgotten that he was carrying Hillary's grocery bags. Boy, these bags were heavy. How did she manage carrying two of these.

"May I put these down?" he asked her.

"Oh of course, of course!" Hillary too seemed to have forgotten that it was her grocery bag that Bill was holding. Her social kerfuffle and the momentary near-death experience seemed to have robbed her of her coolness and calm. She too was getting a little exhausted from carrying her groceries so she put her bag on the floor and neatly folded her skirt before sitting on the floor. Seeing it a permission from his companion, Bill followed suit, placing the grocery bag he held beside her.

"Some night, huh?" Hillary said, trying to lighten the mood, and hopefully make amends for her earlier mishap.

"You can say that," Bill replied.

"I don't think this could get any worse."

As if the universe was playing tricks on him, Bill's stomach growled loudly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Spoils and listening to #TreasonSummit had me emotionally exhausted so the update for Spoils might take a while to be posted. For the meantime, here's a fun update!

**_April 6, 1992_**  
 ** _Somewhere between 10th and 11th Floor_**  
**_37th Street Towers_**  
**_8:49 PM_**

Hillary's motherly instincts had kicked in and rummaged inside the grocery bag beside her. Slowly, the stack of grocery items began to pile up. Canned meatloaf, spaghetti sauce, fresh produce rolled on the elevator floor. Bill watched her amusedly as she took out her goods one-by-one until her hand was at the bottom of the large brown paper bag.

"Aha!" she exclaimed triumphantly when she found the pack of Pop Tarts. It was the only ready to eat item that she had. It was supposed to be for Chelsea but since she and Bill were stuck in the elevator without food, she would just have to buy another one for her daughter later.

Hillary tore the foil packaging and handed Bill the snack. "Here. Take one."

Bill was a bit flustered by the sudden act of kindness, but he accepted the Pop Tarts anyway. "Thanks." He took one piece and handed back the package to Hillary, who took one for herself.

"I am sorry that this is all I have. Everything else is not for immediate consumption," she apologized. "We can't exactly eat spaghetti sauce."

Bill was a little confused but the woman in front of her. She was a callous, but she was definitely kind-hearted. And on top of it, a badass careerwoman. He couldn't mesh the those characteristics into one person, namely the one sitting in front of him and eating Pop Tarts.

"You seem to like Pop Tarts very much," Bill observed.

"Oh yes. But please don't tell my daughter," Hillary took another bite of the Pop Tart. "If she finds out, I will have a much harder time curbing out Pop Tarts in her diet."

"Alright." Bill surprised himself with a chuckle. She was more endearing than he thought. Or maybe she really was. He was just put off by her remark. "I wouldn't want to lose my only voter from this building."

"Hey, you have a lot more voters than you think you have," she reassured him, picking another Pop Tart from the package. "Aren't you winning New York in the polls?"

"Yes, the public polls show that. But we can't be too confident. Polls can be wrong sometimes."

Hillary put out a thoughtful face. "Yeah, that's true. Better work on the assumption that you're going to lose than you're gonna win."

"Exactly. Dampens the expectations too," Bill agreed, chewing his second Pop Tart. He didn't want to be admit it, but talking to Hillary seemed really easy. While he didn't want to let her go on her earlier crude remarks, he decided that there was nothing to be gained if he continued snubbing the woman.

Bill allowed himself to know Hillary a bit more.

"So, you have a kid and you are a lawyer. If you're not stuck with me in the elevator, what should you be doing right now?" Bill asked.

"Cooking dinner for me and my daughter," she replied right off the bat.

"Can your daughter manage if you didn't get home early enough?"

Hillary was clearly worried. "There's still enough at home to make PB&J. But I want to cook for her myself, of course."

Bill caught the sincerity of her last sentence. There was no doubt in his mind that she was a devoted mother, and he admired her immensely for it. However, his last question seemed to have taken a toll on her, so he decided to lighten up the conversation.

"I bet you're a good cook," he said.

Hillary probably didn't notice it, but a faint blush crept on her cheeks. "I am not the world's greatest chef but I can manage. You, Governor, have cooks in the Governor's Mansion, do you?"

"Yes, but I am not the only one being serviced by the cooks," he corrected her. "they cater for the official state functions, so my meals are not even the majority of their tasks. And since I'm single, they don't need to prepare much for the me."

"Wow, I didn't know of that," she said in wonder. "You must have hosted a lot of people in the Mansion. Any memorable ones?"

Bill's eyes lit up. "Yes. President Ford. It was one of the proudest moments in my life. Hosting a President of the United States is a great honor obviously, but what caught me more in that experience was the insights he gave me about being President. I knew being President is hard, but he really fleshed out to me what being a President means. Like, he gave me a 3D image of what the Presidency is like, and all I my life, I only had the 2D image in my mind. It was a life-changing experience."

Hillary stared in awe of Bill, and he couldn't help but be conscious of his gaze.

"What about you? Any remarkable dinner guests?"

She shrugged. "My dinner parties are boring."

Bill felt a little guilty for putting her in the spot like that, so he changed the question. "Any dinner guests you would like to have?"

Hillary was more enthused to answer this one. "Eleanor Roosevelt?"

Bill was perplexed. "But she's dead!"

"I know, I know. But I would really love her to join me for dinner. I have been in awe of her since I was a kid. She really knew her way out of a man's world. She could give me some tips."

"It seems like you do know how to be in a man's world yourself," he remarked.

"It's not as easy as you think. There has been progress with women in the workforce, but it's still hard. Our male colleagues still are not convinced we are as good as them."

"Your colleagues are blind," he said forcefully, surprising himself. "You can do a much better job than them."

Bill could tell that Hillary appreciated his comment but appeared nonchalant.

"So," she switched topics, "how's the campaign so far?"

Bill sighed. "You know how hard we're waging the campaign. In a few weeks, I hope to clinch the nomination-"

Hillary cut him off, waving her hand. "No, I wasn't referring to the polls and the debates and all of that. I mean, how did your life change since you ran for president?"

Bill was struck by her question. It was probably the first time someone outside the press asked him about his life.

"Truth be told, it was daunting," he confessed. "No more privacy because the press is hounding you 24/7. And since a few weeks ago, I have Secret Service running around everywhere I go. It was lucky that I managed to talk them out of escorting me to the 29th floor."

"You are happy your Secret Service aren't with you right now?" Hillary blinked.

"Yeah, I am. Even if I'm stuck in an elevator," he said. "If I win, I won't get to experience what normal people do, like being stuck in an elevator." This made Hillary laugh, and Bill felt proud of himself. "I want to hold on to any semblance of normalcy for as long as possible."

"Wow," she said. "I don't think I'll be comfortable with Secret Service either. What if I want to go skinny dipping?"

Bill snorted. "That is such a problem indeed."

"And I don't want to put my life in the public either," she added. "The press is vicious these days. They treat everyone as their punching bag."

Finally, someone said out loud what Bill had been itching to say but couldn't. If anyone heard that he said that, it would be the end of this presidential bid.

Half of the Pop Tarts were gone, but the conversation (and the munchies) was far from over. "Given that you are a presidential candidate," Hillary said, "I bet you rehearse everything that you say" 

"Well, I guess there is no point denying that," Bill said. He seemed eager to say more, but he was afraid that what he would say might get out. Hillary understood his concern so she assuaged him.

"Don't worry," she smiled, "nothing will get out of this elevator. Consider this your safe space."

A safe space, huh. Bill might not have realized it yet, but the elevator had indeed developed into a safe space for him, albeit floating thirty feet above the ground. So far, he had been candid as he ever had since he ran for president, and the woman who he just met was a good listener and very fun to talk to. He had talked to so many people over the years, but none of them had given him a conversation as good and as cathartic as Hillary.

He could talk and talk and talk to her for hours.

Bill, buoyed by her assurance, opened up.

"I do rehearse what I say," he confirmed what she already knew. "I don't want to offend or look snubbish in front people. Be friendly to everyone, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," she told him. "I really do."

She was gazing him again with her kind, blue eyes, and this time, Bill didn't miss the sparkle in them. He was enthralled by those beautiful orbs. How come she didn't make people's heads turn with those gorgeous eyes?

A few seconds of silence and intense staring made them realize what they were doing and how ridiculous this was, so they snapped out of their trance and pretended nothing had happened.

"Gosh, it must be the lack of air," Hillary said.

"Yeah," was all he could say. Bill quickly thought of another talking point just so there wouldn't be dead air (and another opportunity for Hillary to catch him staring at her)

"Any plans this weekend?" Bill blurted out. He wanted to smack himself for asking that because it looked that he wanted to ask her out. But thankfully, Hillary didn't notice.

"Just riding our bicycles in Central Park, and then lunch somewhere with Chelsea," replied Hillary. "I really don't care what the activity is, whether arcade games or movies or even knitting. As long as I am with Chelsea, I am happy."

Bill imagined Hillary having fun at the park with daughter, feeling his heart swell. He would love to watch them do that once.

"I know you rarely have time for relaxation," Hillary interrupted his thoughts, "but what do you like doing in your free time?"

"Reading," he replied without thinking. "I can spend the entire day curled up with a good book. I read everything. Thrillers, autobiographies, self-help, books about policy. I have yet to read a good book I don't like. My basement in Arkansas is fast becoming a library."

"My, my, Bill Clinton the bibliophile," Hillary smiled.

"Yep. Books are my weakness. I tend to sleep with my books on my lap and my glasses still on my nose," Bill confessed.

"I bet your mother isn't happy with you leaving the lights on when you sleep," Hillary teased.

"No, she isn't," he grinned.

"My daughter is probably the same as you are," she said. "I am glad that she is so into book that I don't have problem pulling her away from the TV."

"We'd probably get along very well," he said. "Your daughter seems smart."

"She is," Hillary said proudly. "She's clever and lovely and amazing and she puts me in my place. She once shushed me when I sang to her when she was little."

"No kidding!" Bill laughed.

"Yes. I am tone deaf. I wouldn't want myself to sing my own lullaby to be honest," she giggled. "How about you? Do you sing?"

"Just in the showers. But I do play the sax."

Hillary stared at him in amazement. "Seriously?"

"Yes. I once played in Arsenio Hall's show in '88. After I botched my DNC speech," he recalled fondly of the talk show, but not of the botched speech.

"I remembered your speech in '88. I fell asleep. But not because you were boring," she quickly clarified, "but because it was so late and you were still going. You are really engaging. I really thought you had it in you."

"What's that?"

"The brains and guts to run for President," she said. "Never doubted it."

Somehow, her words were the pep talk he never knew he needed. A woman he just barely knew, a woman he just met, was making the most impact in his life than most of the people in his life.

"Thank you," he managed to say without choking.

At that point, he decided that whatever happened after this episode in the elevator, he would never forget Hillary Rodham. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Pop Tarts are all gone but our couple ain't done...

**_April 6, 1992_**   
**_Somewhere between 10th and 11th Floor_**   
**_37th Street Towers_**   
**_9:34 PM_**

The foil of Pop Tarts lay unattended on the floor as Bill and Hillary settled on each corner of the elevator, expecting that help wouldn't arrive anytime soon. The Pop Tarts had been enough to satisfy their hunger, but there was no water with them. Hillary silently smacked herself for forgetting to buy bottled water, a mistake that was greatly amplified by their current predicament.

"So," Hillary said, "It seems like we're going to be inside this box for the whole night."

"Safe to assume that, yeah," Bill agreed.

Hillary shifted her position because her legs were starting to fall asleep. She secretly blasted herself for being old. If she was younger, her body wouldn't be acting like this.

"Ouch, this hurts," she complained.

"Want me to help you?" Bill rushed to her aid.

"No, no, I'm fine," she dismissed. "It's just a reminder that I am not longer young. as if I have ever forgotten."

"Awww, don't be so hard on yourself. For the record, I think you look pretty," he said, surprising himself that he did so.

"You don't have to tell me that to make me feel better," Hillary replied, but the blush on her cheeks told him that she was glad to hear it. She didn't know why she was feeling...happy when he said it? It's not as if she hadn't gotten that compliment from men on a regular basis.

Hillary didn't have the chance to ponder on the weird feelings Bill was bringing out on her when the lights suddenly dimmed. Both she and Bill looked alarmed. Her hand was on her chest and Bill was glancing everywhere.

"What's going on?" Bill asked her.

Thankfully, she didn't have to answer because a male voice came out from the speaker.

"Officer Master here," the voice said. "How are you two?"

"We're fine," replied Hillary. "How long until we get out of here?"

Master sighed. "I am afraid it'll take some time, Ma'am. The electricity still hasn't been restored. We're still running on generators. We had to dim the lights to conserve power."

"Shit," Hillary hissed.

"Sir, are the Secret Service still around?" Bill asked.

"Yes, Governor. Although some of them have already gone to the hotel to notify your staff. They'll be with us round the clock."

"Thank you."

"How about my daughter?" asked Hillary worriedly.

"Miss Rodham has been notified. We checked your unit and she was inside. The in-house staff gave her food for the night," said Master.

"Thank God," Hillary breathed in relief.

"I apologize for the prolonged inconvenience, Governor and Ms. Rodham. We are doing our best to get you out of there as soon as possible."

"Thank you," they said in unison.

"For the meantime, we'll turn off the two-way speaker to conserve power. If you need any assistance, just press the emergency button and then we'll get to you immediately."

"Okay," said Hillary.

Master bid them goodbye, and once again, Bill and Hillary were left alone to themselves, feeling tired and hopeless. They wished there was something they could do to get out of the elevator but all they could do now was wait.

"This sucks," Hillary sighed.

"I know," he looked at her, feeling exasperated. "Of all the days to be stuck inside an elevator, why today? I have a primary to win tomorrow!"

Hillary sighed. "I guess I won't be able to go to work tomorrow."

"But you do have paid leave, right?" Bill asked, concerned.

"Yeah. I am lucky to have those perks. Not many workers, especially women, enjoy those privileges. I have always thought that I don't have a good job, I'll die working and be buried in a mountain of my case files."

Bill shouldn't be laughing, but he couldn't help himself doing so. He was tickled by her humor, but he couldn't escape the shadows of the grim reality facing ordinary Americans like Hillary. As a governor, his work benefits were generous, a privilege that he thought should be a basic right of all workers.

"You're the one to laugh, you have paid leaves and sick leaves and all of that," Hillary teased him, shrouding her real criticism of the governor with humor.

"I know, I know. This is why I'm running. I know I can make a big difference if I run for higher office. I saw how my grandpa worked in his store and how he helped them. I heard their stories first hand. I found it appalling that a nation like the United States would not take care of its citizens." Bill felt the sting of her last remark, but it gave him the opportunity to give her a real insight as to why he was running, not just his usual campaign pitch (as if he needed to persuade her to vote for him).

She was staring at him. She was a staring at him longer than a voter should stare at her candidate. Bill felt his stomach tumble. He had a glimpse of her eyes, and there was so much she wanted to say, and he didn't know if he could handle it. She was so beautiful, he thought. But it was apparent that she didn't think of herself that way. She was a force of nature, a figure larger than life. A woman, a woman who he just happened to get stuck in an elevator with, was making him feel insecure and inadequate.

"And for the record, I think I'd die of a cardiac arrest," Bill quipped. "I am way too fond of McDonalds."

It took several moments for Hillary to snap out of her stupor, but Bill's weird response left her a little confused. Right. They were last talking about the way she would die. What was it that he said after that? Oh right. That he ran for office because of a higher cause, and he sounded very sincere in saying so. God, did he catch her staring at him? Oh fuck. That was embarrassing on an epic scale. She didn't want him to think that she was like the other floozies (she had refused to use that term for women but she thought it was appropriate in that context) who came to him. If this was the so-called Bill Clinton charm, she better stay away from it.

Bill was relieved when the connection broke, but it was magical when it lasted. He wanted to know more about Hillary Rodham, to keep her close even when this ordeal ended, but he knew it was a bad time for him. He did not want her to get hurt for something he knew that would be superficial.

"So," he said, in an attempt to break the ice, "you're a lawyer. Where did you go?"

"Harvard '73," she said proudly. "I almost dumped Harvard for Yale when one of their professors told me they don't need women in their law school. I was going to send my confirmation letter to Yale but I got a call from Harvard and an apology from that professor. I reconsidered and the rest, they say, was history."

"Wait, I graduated Yale in '73," Bill said excitedly, pointing to himself. "That means we could have been classmates if you went to Yale!"

"Hey, you're right!" Hillary's eyes lit up. "Are you on the moot court team too?"

"Definitely. And the student council!"

"Present!"

"So in an alternate universe, we could have been friends in law school!"

"True, true!" Hillary couldn't help that Bill meant more than he was letting on. Friends? Sure. But Hillary was certain he thought more than that.

"God, imagine what things might have been if things were different," Bill remarked, still contemplating what would have happened if Hillary went to Yale. "You, don't you ever wish things were different?"

Hillary sighed. "Sometimes I do. I wish I had seen the warning signs from the beginning. With my husband, I mean."

Bill was struck by her sudden confession, but he was ready to listen.

Hillary was holding back her tears. "I became too focused on my career, on providing a decent living for Ethan and Chelsea that I missed the blaring sirens. My colleagues thought I was smart, but apparently, I am not because I was not smart enough to notice that Ethan had been fucking his secretary for years."

"I don't like it when men cheat. Or when people cheat in general," she continued, her voice almost choking. "That's fucking disgusting. People like that have no morals." Hillary didn't mince her words, and Bill felt the sting of every one of it, because he had been guilty of being unfaithful, and it almost sunk his campaign early this year, but it sunk his marriage a few years ago.

"I am sorry," Bill was hesitant to give her a supportive tap in the shoulder, but it was the right thing to do, and he finally pulled the courage to do so, considering that he was one of the people Hillary was chastising. He didn't deserve to comfort her. Hell, he didn't even deserve to lick her shoes, but what else could he do?

"I'm sorry that men like me exist," he said, truly regretful of his past actions as if he wasn't already. "We are such a bunch of assholes. We thought we were entitled to be pleased by women, and we thought we were going to get away with it. Boy, the divorce was a wake-up call for me."

"I know you are a good candidate, but your actions in your marriage reminded me of Ethan, and that made me think twice about voting for you. People like you should suffer for the consequences of what you've done," she said, "but I cannot let another Republican destroy the future I want for my daughter. She's too precious to me."

Bill could not believe that Hillary would still trust her to run the country despite what he had done. "And I promise to govern well, to help build a better future for your daughter," he replied, his voice almost pleading. "And it probably won't mean much to you, but I have changed since my divorce. I sought help. And I've never been so sure of myself. Therapy helped me get my life back on track." Bill did not know why he had to tell Hillary that. Maybe it was because he was desperately trying to get back to her good graces. 

Why did she seem so important to him?

Hillary took a silent sniff and looked up above. "I wish I have the power to change time. Or to fix things. Because I sure as hell want to get out of this elevator."

Her humor certainly lightened the mood, and within seconds, Hillary heard Bill chuckling. She turned her heard and for the first time, she saw him up close, more relaxed than she had ever seen him on TV. It's as if a large weight had been taken off his chest.

"I sure do wish we can get out of this elevator soon," Bill said, smiling. "But am I bad to say that I am enjoying this conversation?"

To his surprise, Hillary shook his head. "No. I am actually glad that I am having this conversation. I never really talked like this. Even with my best friends."

"Really?" Bill secretly pumped his fist.

"Yeah. This conversation. It's like therapy. You can open up all you want without the other person judging you. That's so common nowadays."

"I know. If I tell people in my orbit the things I've told you, I wouldn't be winning the Democratic nomination today."

"I see. It so happens I have a few Republican operatives in my circles," Hillary gave an evil grin.

The color was drained from Bill's face. "No, you wouldn't..."

"Of course not!" Hillary laughed. "You are the first person who acknowledged that I wasn't at fault in my first marriage, and that meant a lot to me. Of course, keeping your secret is an honor that I would like to have."

Bill gave her a soft gaze, his heart racing.

He felt like a teenager all over again.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trying to get my normal routine back. Studying, writing, reading and all of that. 
> 
> Having gone through what I had, I am amazed at Chelsea's class and resilience. Clearly, her parents raised her well.

_**April 6, 1992**_  
_**Somewhere between 10th and 11th Floor**_  
_**37th Street Towers**_  
**_11_** _ **:18**_ ** _PM_**

Another pack of Pop Tarts were all gone, and the foil was left discarded on the floor as an increasingly comfortable Bill and Hillary remained slumped on the floor. But unlike the previous hour, they were more relaxed and the worries about them being trapped inside the elevator slowly slipped away. Bill, despite being up for the primaries in a few hours, felt as carefree as he had ever been, while Hillary hadn't had this much fun in a while. At least without alcohol.

"God, you're lucky. You don't have a kid to raise," she said, absentmindedly picking up the Pop Tart foil and dumping it into the grocery bag. "Don't get me wrong: I love my daughter more than anything else in the world. But sometimes, I just wish I can have a week off and stroll over Paris, drink wine, read a book, see the sunset and those stuff. Without having to worry about her.

"Well, why haven't you?" he asked, genuinely curious and quietly keeping her wish in the back of his mind. "Surely, she's been gone to camp or something."

"She did, but I was so worried about her that I was barely able to do anything," she recalled. "I thought I would be able to handle it well but clearly I can't."

"But what if the time comes that Chelsea has to move away?"

Hillary sighed. "I clearly dread that day, but alas, no matter what I do, that day will come. I just have to teach myself to let go, I guess. I don't want to hold her from the life that she wants. The last thing I want to be is to be a burdensome Mom. Ever since she was born, she is always front and center in my life. Sometimes, even more than Ethan. Maybe that's why Ethan strayed. Because I wasn't a good wife. I can take that. But what I can’t take is that I am a bad mother. I do think I am not, but I fear that Chelsea might think that I am.”

Bill looked at her with great interest. “What makes you think that Chelsea thinks you’re a bad Mom?”

Hillary shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s bitter for not having her Dad around. Ethan loved her so much even during the time he was cheating on me. When Ethan and I had the divorce, I won the sole custody of Chelsea because Ethan’s finances were ruined thanks to that woman of hers. Ethan was allowed visitation rights and I am happy to work with him on raising Chelsea but he and his woman moved to Boston and I heard he was having a hard time in his company, so he couldn’t visit Chelsea often. I don’t blame him for it. It’s just that I wish he’s around more.”

“So, with Ethan gone, I felt like the role of Mom and Dad fell upon my shoulders, and I am not sure I am being a good Dad to her. And now that she’s nearing her teenage years, I feel she needs her Dad more than ever.”

Hillary felt a large warm hand enveloped hers, and when she looked up, Bill’s sympathetic eyes were gazing at her, telling her that it was okay to feel like that. For the first time, someone had understood her insecurities, even if that someone was a childless, playboy politician.

“How about you? What is the one thing in the world that you wanted to know?” Hillary asked him, aching to dig deeper into the most understood man in the country, the man who coincidentally knew her deepest and darkest secrets more than any person alive, save for her mother. 

“Me?” Bill lowered his gaze to the floor. “I’d like to know if I’d ever had a kid someday.”

Hillary fixed her eyes on him, not blinking at all. 

“I know it sounds ridiculous, given my history, but I do dream of having my own kid. In a way, I am jealous of you because you have Chelsea. Maybe I am not destined to have one because of my impulsiveness. I mean, I can’t even hold on to my marriage. Imagine how much worse it would have been if I had a kid.”

“You know that’s not true,” Hillary forcefully corrected him. “That’s exactly what Republicans want – to connect your less-than-perfect marriage to your overall character as a person. You have been an excellent governor, and even someone like me, who is not very pleased of how you handled your marriage, could not deny that fact. What I’m saying is that do not let your marriage define you as a person. I am sure that if you will be blessed with your own kid, you’ll be an excellent Dad.”

“What makes you say that?” Bill said, still unconvinced.

Hillary gave a sweet smile.

“The way you worry about Chelsea? It struck me. If you’re like that to a kid who’s not even yours, what more to your own?”

\---

An hour had gone by, and drowsiness and exhaustion were almost claiming them. Bill, ever the Southern gentleman, let Hillary sleep on his shoulder. At first, Hillary felt awkward at his invitation, but Bill broke the tension by telling her to think she was accidentally sleeping on another random guy’s shoulder on the bus. The prompted Hillary to laugh out loud, and the sound of her laughter was music to his ears. Her loud belly laugh was nothing Bill had ever heard. There was this pure joy emanating from her laughter that he himself couldn’t help but feel elated.

“I’m so tired,” Hillary yawned, making herself comfortable in his shoulders.

“Me too,” he absentminded her leaned his head into hers. “I wish we’re out of here soon. My body’s staring to ache.”

“Yeah. It’s hard to sleep this way.”

It was Bill’s turn to yawn. “Yep. And I have a primary tomorrow. I don’t want to appear on TV with dark circles in my eyes.”

“What a sight that would be,” she chuckled as she slowly closed her eyes.

“I know. I can see the headlines now. CLINTON CLINCHES NY PRIMARY WITH BLACK EYES."

“Nah. That’s won’t happen. Nobody will write about a guy’s appearance. Whereas you’ll find that kind of rhetoric in the news when a woman is running.”

Bill couldn’t help but agree with her. “You’re probably right.”  
“I’d really like to see a woman run for president and win,” she murmured, her voice mixed with yawning. “It’s my dream. And when that happens, I’d like to see that moment with Chelsea, so that she knows she can do anything.”

“Why don’t you run for President someday?” Bill wasn’t joking, but it prompted a small laugh from her.

“You’re a funny guy. You should show more of your humor in the campaign trail.”

It was the first time anybody had lectured him about humor. He thought himself as funny enough to get through the voters but not too funny not to be taken seriously as a contender, and it shook him a bit. It was yet another proof that he felt out of his element with her.

“No, I am not joking,” Bill said seriously. “You should run, and I am prepared to support you in your candidacy if you decide to run. I think you can get very far in politics. Even President.”

“Oh, stop it,” Hillary playfully slapped his arm with her eyes still closed, unintentionally breaking another barrier with Bill. “The path is rougher to women than men. You of all people know that.”

“But if anyone can traverse that rough path, it’s you,” he said. “I’ve never seen a woman carry herself with so much strength as you. You’re so sure of yourself. You can take down these men who are running right now. To be honest, I am quite thankful that I am not running against you, because I’d lose.”

His words were met with a gentle squeeze on his arm.

Bill and Hillary bought thought that sleep was going to claim them easily, but the opposite had happened. Their eyes were tightly shut, but their minds were wide awake. In order to get themselves drowsier, Bill was drawing circles on the back of Hillary's hand, while Hillary was counting sheep in her mind.    
"It's hard to sleep," Bill moaned, complaining.

"I know. My body is tired but I can't even get a short nap," she replied. "The elevator isn't the best place to sleep."

"I agree. God, our backs are gonna hurt in a couple of hours."  
"No, Sir. Only you, Grandpa. I do yoga," Hillary teased him with her eyes still closed.

_Yoga, eh?_

For a split second, Bill saw in his mind's eye the benefits of Hillary's yoga as she stretched her legs wide open, welcoming him into her hot, wet depths. It wasn't long until he realized what he was imagining and squirmed to shake that memory off himself. Hillary felt his movement and she was nudged awake, thinking that she was straining him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Is your arm okay?" she asked worriedly.

"Huh? My arm is fine. Why do you ask?"

"I thought your arm's numb or something so you moved..."

"Ah, no, no, no," Bill was relieved that she thought his squirms were innocent and not a by-product of his dirty thoughts about her. He wanted to kick himself for thinking like that. He had not fantasized about a woman he just met ever since he finished his therapy years ago. He feared that his impulsiveness was coming back again, and it came at back the worst possible time.

Hillary choosing leaning on to him again felt more victorious than any election that he had ever won, but he wouldn't admit it to himself yet because it stirred his fear of his old demons. He kept telling himself that he was just being nice to her, and it would be rude to tell her to sleep next to the wall, but he wasn't sure that he could hold on to that pretense for long.   

In an effort to take his attention elsewhere, he thought of starting another conversation with her.

"You still up?" he murmured.

"Yeah. Still can't sleep."

"Afraid of nightmares?"

"The boogie man doesn't hide beneath elevators, but under the beds. I think we're safe," she quipped, smirking as she buried her face in his arm.

"No, really. Have you had nightmares?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle."

But Bill sensed something more, something like a trauma or a terrible memory that was keeping Hillary up. He saw that her eyes were shut tight, unnatural for someone who was trying to get some sleep. Something was up, and Bill was sure of it. He was dying to know what was troubling her, but he was hesitant to go beyond her boundaries.

So, he decided to open up himself.

"I onced stopped my Daddy from hurting Mama."

Hillary opened her eyes at her sudden pronouncement, her look imploring him to continue.

Bill sighed. "When I was fourteen, I got home from school and I found my Mama arguing with my Daddy. He wasn't really my Daddy but my stepdad. I was born Blythe but I changed my name to Clinton. Anyway, I found them arguing and Daddy had a gun. I knew if I didn't do anything, Daddy could hurt Mama and my brother Roger so I overpowered Daddy. I was big and strong enough to overpower Daddy so we fought and I managed to take his gun away. He was furious at me, but he never dared to hurt any of us again."

"You're so brave," Hillary whispered.

"Not really. I was scared shitless. I was scared that Daddy might accidentally pull the trigger and kill any one of us. We're just luck all of us were unharmed. But I didn't think I was alright ever since that day."

"What do you mean?" Hillary was now fully awake and sitting straight, her hand resting on his shoulder.

"My therapist said that event scarred me for life. It's why I have the impulses. Sexual impulses, I mean." Those last words tested bitter in his tongue.

"But you're better now!" Hillary couldn't believe that she was rooting for a man who was once a serial philanderer.

"I'd like to think so, yes. But to be honest, I still have doubts in myself. Part of my road to recovery is keeping my distance from women. I know my impulses under control, but who's to say they won't come back?"

"They won't," Hillary said firmly.

Bill looked at her imploringly. "How can you say that?"

"Because I've seen your sincerity. I know you are truthful when you said that you no longer want to go back to the old ways."

Bill's eyes softened. **"** Thank you. It means a lot coming from you."

She reciprocated with a smile.

With Bill's confession, she saw him in a different light. She felt touched that he entrusted her with that memory that he probably want buried for the rest of his life, especially this memory because it could prove to be so damaging to his campaign. Nevertheless, he trusted her without hesitations.

Maybe she could trust him too.

"My father is a typical Midwest Republican," Hillary told him. "Officer in the army, then ran his own business to provide for us. He keeps us disciplined and he hates waste. Asking for a raise in our weekly allowance was always hell. He would rant about how much money we were wasting when all we wanted were some candy."

"That's tough," Bill frowned.

Hillary focused her gaze on the floor. "Oh yeah? That's nothing compared to what he made me do one time."

"What was it?"

"I was a little girl when it happened. I just brushed my teeth but I forgot to put the cap back on the toothpaste. Dad saw it and he was enraged. He called me with the most horrible scream and I was trembling when I approaced him. He was yelling at me, throwing harsh words at me. As punishment, he threw the cap outside the house where it was snowing, and I was supposed to find the cap or else I wouldn't be allowed back inside."

"Oh God, Hillary," was all Bill could say, his hands covering his mouth in shock.

"Yeah. It was already dark so the cap was difficult to find. I looked around and around but I couldn't see and I wasn't my glasses. So, I slept in our doorstep in the cold. My Mom took me inside by midnight when everyone was already sleeping."

"Good God," Bill's jaw dropped.

"Yep. Sometimes when I close my eyes to sleep, that specific memory resurfaces. I had to take pills to avoid that."

Bill painfully regretted charting into this territory. It was his idea to make Hillary open up just because he wanted to know what was troubling her. And now that he knew, he felt guilty for being nosy. He wasn't prepared for magnitude of Hillary's troubles, and he was foolish to think that it was some ordinary bad memory that was keeping her from sleeping soundly. It was darker, deeper than that. And if Bill would guess, she still hasn't recovered from it, despite her brave front.

"I am so sorry about that, Hillary. I didn't know your trauma runs deep."

"It's okay. It's not your fault." Hillary's assurances did not make Bill feel any better. "I am just glad that you listened. You are the second person outside my family to have known this. The first one is my best friend. She kept this for years because I told her I don't want anyone finding out about this. It's embarrassing."

"Oh, Hillary. There is nothing embarrassing about it."

"But in our neighborhood, I am the A-student! And I was scared that others will know.  If everyone finds out that I am not really the achiever they thought I was..."

"But you are. But even the best of us makes mistakes. Einstein was rejected for a job at a prestigious university. Stephen Hawking was rejected for a job at a prestigious university. And i lost the governor's race in 1980!"

Hillary raised her eyebrow at Bill's last statement. The increduliy turned into a subtle laugh and finally, a giggle. Bill's attempt to ligthten the mood had worked, and the mirth in her smile was slowly starting to return.

"Yeah, yeah," she said as the last of her giggles had gone. "Just make sure you win the next time."

"Of course. With you as my vice president, of course!"

Hillary laughed again, that deep belly laugh of hers. "You still are not giving up courting me as your running mate?"

"No. I think Akransas and Illinois make a great combination in Electoral College politics. Bill and Hill 1992!"

"Or HillBilly."

"Or even HillyBilly!" Bill was glad that she was laughing again. "but wait, my name has to come first because I am running for president. So BillyHill!"

"HillBilly still sounds better. But if I may suggest, Mr. President, Billy and Hilly isn't too shabby either."

"Billy and Hilly. I like the sound of that." Indeed, their names sounded like music to his ears. Not too many people called him Billy. Only his family and close friends. Not one of his exes, including his ex-wife, had called him that. Bill tried to quell the the slightest flutter in his heart and not raise his fist for being called as such by this wonderful woman beside her. On the flip side, he wondered if anybody had called her Hilly. She was certainly the first person of her name that Bill had ever met. Hillary wasn't a common name, so Bill didn't know whether it was usual for people named Hillary to be called Hilly.

Either way, he would call her Hilly from now on, and she would call him Billy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are aware of that study I was referring to in the previous chapters, then you must have noticed that we are already on question 18 out of 36. Our trapped couple will only grow closer from here.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you'll like this chapter ^_^

**_April 7, 1992_**  
**_Somewhere between 10th and 11th Floor_**  
**_37th Street Towers_**  
**_0_** ** _0:_** ** _47 AM_**

Hillary stopped pretending that she could fall asleep in an elevator, so she remained leaning on his shoulder as she played with his fingers, with she found slender and beautiful. Those long digits were like a work of art, taken from some Greek statue. Normally, she would not have allowed herself to get comfortable with a man so easily, especially if that man was a politician. But Bill wasn't any other politician. He was different. There was something in him that set him apart from other men she met. He was smart, engaging, kind-hearted and most of all, understanding. Sure, he had met other men like him, but he was still different in a way that she couldn't put her finger on. 

Besides, what happened inside the elevator would stay in the elevator.

Hillary wasn't the only one feeling comfortable. Bill, slumping on the corner, had his arms wrapped around her and occasionally sniffing her hair, which he thought smelled like fresh bread in the morning. It had been a while since he cuddled a woman. No, years actually. He wasn't a stranger to casual flirting, but he missed the snuggles and the lazy lounging with someone. If the media had sensed that he was anywhere near flirting with a woman, they would no doubt run multiple headlines about his potential relationships, and whether or not he did something inappropriate. But, with Hillary gaining his trust, he was confident that she would not betray his secret. And besides, the last thing she wanted was to be hounded by the press for being his Girlfriend #689.

They settled in each other's bodies, not really wishing that the mechanics finish their goddamn work.

"Your fingers are really long," Hillary suddenly blurted out, after she played with his hand for the hundredth time. Hillary surprised herself that she said that out loud. She meant to keep it to herself because no one in their right mind would pore over somebody else's fingers. She realized that she might have a fetish for his fingers, and so Hillary felt her face burn in embarrassment.

Bill chuckled softly beside her. Nobody had ever praised him for his fingers before. "That's an unusual compliment, but I'll take it."

"I...uh...you're welcome," she stammered.

"And for the record, I think your eyes look magnificent. Like a diamond sparkling. Or a star twinkling in the night sky."

"Oh stop it." Bill's response did nothing but to intensify that had been going on in her cheeks. Hillary couldn't help but feel flattered and elated, so much that she shifted and pushed him away a little, and that prompted a worried look from Bill.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.

"No. I'm just..." But the deep reddening of her face told Bill exactly what she meant. Hillary saw that he too was blushing, and it comforted her. He was feeling the same way too, to Hillary, it felt like a cup of hot cocoa on a stormy night.

Finding her courage, her fingers laced with his again. She noticed that Bill was getting uncomfortable in his position, so she allowed him to lie on her lap.

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yeah. Your back must hurting right now. Come, you can lie on me,"she pulled her skirt downwards and repositioned her legs comfortably, but she didn't realize that she licked her lips doing so, and that gesture didn't go unnoticed to Bill.

One he settled in her lap, he had an unexpected feeling of comfort and warmth. Hillary caught his expression of content.

"You like it?" she smiled.

"Yeah. I feel comfortable. I had a long day. I can really use a relaxation."

"Want me to massage you a bit?"

"How can you do that? I am lying on my back."

Hillary giggled. "Your hands and your head, silly. Of course I can't massage you on your back."

"Ah!" Bill's misunderstanding made his face turn bright red. For a second, he thought she wanted him flat on his belly and she was going to straddle her. If that happened...he wouldn't know what to do to control himself.

Hillary found his expression adorable. "Give me your left hand."

Bill did what he was told. She began pressing and pinching his middle finger, from the tip to the root, side-by-side. She then pressed his pointer, then ring, then index then his pinkie. She then pressed his palm with her fingers. Once she was done with his left hand, so proceeded to do the same routine on his right. She was applying the right amount of pressure on his hand, making him feel good that he inadvertently let out a soft growl.

"You like it?" she smiled.

"Yeah," he said appreciatively.

"I am glad that you do. How do you feel?"

"I know I am lying flat on my back on a stone cold floor, but somehow I feel like I'm on cloud nine," he said dreamily with his eyes closed. "I know this might sound weird but I am glad I met you. I really had fun with you, and I am honored your to keep deepest-kept secrets, just I am privileged that you keep mine.

Unbeknownst to Bill, Hillary smiled from above, looking touched.

"Give me your left hand again," she ordered him, and he did so. Suddenly caught off-guard by his response, it took her a while to formulate what she was going to say next.

"What can I say? You took the words out of my lips," Hillary said. "I feel the same Bill..."

"Billy. Call me Billy."

"Billy," she blushed as she called him by his preferred nick name (or pet name?). "I don't know what I did that led me to you tonight, but I am grateful all the same."

Bill really felt he was on cloud nine now. It wasn't just him who was felt it. She was feeling it too...

Hillary continued pressing his left arm with her hands. Bill could definitely get used to this. She was giving him her full, undivided attention, and he was glad to be worthy of that privilege.

She was looking at him intensely. All of a sudden, as she was massaging her arms, a serious question popped in her head.

"Bill?"

"Mmmm-hmmm?"

"I'd like to ask you a question."

"Shoot."

Hillary licked her lips and took a deep breath before she fired her question, surprised and confused why her heart was pounding like a huge drum.

"Have...have you ever thought of settling down? After the presidency, I mean. I figured that you would be too busy to date while you're in office, but after that, you're free to do whatever you want, right? You can find a girl who'll settle with you and probably give you children," Hillary managed to say without drawing a breath.

Bill was pleasantly surprised that she was asking such question, but he masked his emotions so as he would not look like he was too happy to hear it from her.

"I do want a family of my own. If I win the presidency, I want to spend my retirement cooking my wife and my kid's lunch, and dropping them off to work and school and then picking them up in the afternoon. I know it sounds a lot like stuff stay-at-home Dads do, but that is what I want. I want a family to care for and love. But that doesn't mean that's all I will ever do. I also want to establish my own charity so I can continue working on the causes I care about."

For a split second, Hillary imagined herself being dropped off by Bill in her office and giving her a brown paper bag containing her lunch. She shook that image off her mind and blaming her stomach for the hallucinations.

"What about you? Do you have any plans to marry again? Have kids?" Bill threw her question back at her.

Bill heard a deep sigh.

"I really haven't given it much thought, to be honest," she replied, having already abandoned her arms and was now putting attention to his head. "I have Chelsea to think about. At least until college. She's my priority."

"And then what happens once she moves out?"

Hillary's fingers swirled on his temples, applying the most delicious pressure, and he couldn't help but growl once more.

"I really don't know," she admitted. "But I think I ought to figure out the answer to that question soon."

Bill was a little bit disappointed with her response. He was hoping she would say that she wanted a family of her own, or she was open to it. But at least she wasn't ruling it out completely.

Hillary seemed to figure out what he was thinking, so she immediately said, "I'm sorry it's a lame answer. I honestly don't know what the future has in store for me, and I don't want to embellish things."

"No, no. It's alright," he replied. Once Hillary was finished with her massage, which left Bill a lot refreshed, he opened his eyes and he sat up next to her. "Thanks for the massage. That was amazing."

"No problem. It's not everyday that I get to show my massage skills to a future President," she quipped.

"I am honored," Bill leaned his head back for a good stretch. "I feel great."

Hillary giggled. "Now you owe me a tour of the White House when you win."

"Gladly," Bill's eyes lit up. "I can show you around the White House and around DC."

"I like the sound of that. Next time, I won't be lost in the city!"

"Why, have you been lost before?" Bill said, chuckling.

"No. I was just teasing. I lived in DC before moving to New York. Watergate Committee staffer. I was suddenly unemployed when Nixon resigned. That fucker!"

Bill's jaw dropped on the floor. "Whoa. No way...."

"Yeah. Ethan already secured a lease for our apartment in DC but then boom, I'm out of a job. He really didn't want me to stay in DC and so when Nixon resigned, it seemed like is calling me to New York so Ethan dropped the lease and I moved here. And then we got married."

"Fate knows better, eh?"

"Not really. As you know, our marriage ended up in shambles. I was a mess when I found out. I was crying for months since then, but eventually I moved on. And that was the last time I ever cried."

"Really? No tears since then?"

"I've cried in some sad movies but nothing more serious than that," Hillary shrugged. "How about you? How did you take your divorce?"

"I did well more than I expected," Bill replied, "I thought I'd have a hard time but I didn't. Maybe because I wasn't anymore in love with my wife when we separated so it didn't hurt as much as I thought."

"But you did regret hurting her," Hillary said.

"I did. I did feel a little guilty at first and then I became numb because I wasn't happy anymore with my wife, and I thought it sort of justified my cheating. But cheating is cheating. There's no other way around that. My wife was devastated when she found out, and only then I realized that I was a shitty spouse too."

It was the most thoughtful and candid that Hillary heard from Bill. And she'd heard a lot. It made her heart feel for his in an endless shower of affection for this man she, hours ago, deemed a Don Juan, and now finally saw for what he was. And God, did she want to touch him, hug him, kiss it all better. She never wanted to do anything so much in her life. She wanted so desperately to take his hand and not let go for the rest of her life.

Her heart thumped so loudly she felt like it must be visible under her skin, as if it had to leave an indent in her chest from the way it hammered against her ribcage, as she held her breath and in one, swift movement not only invaded his personal space, but she moved even closer.

She saw it: the flicker of his eyes to her lips. But he didn't move, and he didn't talk. He only stared at her, so very wide-eyed. But he slowly closed his eyes as her lips inched towards his, and his welcomed her as if he had been waiting for her in his entire life.

It was a slow kiss, deliberate, searing. He moaned into it as her lips molded themselves against his, his hands pushing further into the skin of her thighs with every brush and nip. And when she caught his lips between her teeth and he gasped and made a sound almost as if he was in pain, a whimper so needy, she felt so empowered that all propriety and slow-burning flew out the window, and she pushed his face closer to her by the hair and her tongue into his mouth. She was emboldened, and he was urging her too keep going, as if he was begging. Hillary never felt so needed like that. A man, possibly the next leader of the free world, needed her like air, and it made her feel exhilarating.

Whatever Hillary felt, Bill was feeling it tenfold. In his arms was a woman who saw him not for what he did, but for who he was. He poured himself into her, and she was pouring a part of herself into him through that kiss. God, he couldn't get enough of her. He didn't want this to end. He didn't want to let go...

But, at some point, they did let go, but only because they were out of oxygen. Panting, they held each other's faces, their fingers rubbing their skin as they saw each other in a completely different light.

_Maybe it's time to reconsider my plans for the future_ , Hillary thought.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hear you loud and clear!

_**April 7, 1992**_  
_**Somewhere between 10th and 11th Floor**_  
_**37th Street Towers**_  
_**01**_ _ **:**_ _ **24 AM**_

_**"**_ How did this happen?" Hillary wondered out loud as Bill caressed her lips.

"What?" His heart sank, fearful that she might have regretted kissing him.

"This. All of this," she looked around to emphasize what she meant. "A few hours ago, I was going home to my daughter, you were supposed to win a primary, and we were complete strangers. And now...now...God."

"What is it?" He caressed her face again.

"Fuck, I hold my breath and heart beats so fast whenever you touch me. How did this happen?"

Bill felt like he could just float after what she said. "I don't know, Hilly. But I am happy that it did. And I am in cloud nine that you felt the same way."

Hillary looked at him hopefully. "You do?"

"God, yes! You're an exceptional woman. I've known that from the start, but I didn't realize that you'll make my heart beat again. I 've always thought that I am not ready to fall in love again but you came, and that all changed."

She blinked, overwhelmed. "Billy..."

"Once we get out of this elevator, we're going to have breakfast and we're going to spend the day together..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she stopped him from fantasizing too much. "You have a primary to win!"

"But Hilly, we can walk around the city and probably grab some banana splits and then maybe stroll at the park..."

"I like the sound of that, but Billy, I do think your primary is important, and I cannot have you lose the nomination," she tried to keep his head low on the ground. "Not today, but some another day, maybe? When you have already won the nomination? Or on your birthday?"

"Alright," he conceded. "But do you know when is my birthday?"

Hillary suddenly realized that she didn't. "Oh yeah. When is it?"

"August 19th," he replied.

She made a mental note of the date, already thinking of some gift ideas for him. "Mine's October 26th."

"October 26th," he repeated, "the day God blessed me."

Hillary breathed a little easier. She was still scared of what the future would bring, but with Bill beside her, she felt a little less afraid.

But what she was not afraid of was lounging forward and meeting his lips in a slow, tender kiss. She had only kissed Bill twice, and both times, she felt like she had been struck by lightning. It felt so good. It felt so right. Bill's smile when they broke apart confirmed what she had been feeling. And with the darkness circling in their eyes, they were ready to take things further.

Hillary hadn't been with a man for years, but being with Bill, she felt completely in her element. She didn't exactly know why, but there was something in him that brought out the best in her. When she and Ethan had sex, it was enough for her that the both came. After all, he was usually the one in control, and she was okay with it because he made sure she was satisfied every single time. But with Bill, she wanted more than just being able to make him cum and cum herself. She wanted to make him feel special, just as he made her feel special every second since they had met.

As she took off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt, she couldn't help but lick her lips, anticipating what was beneath his clothing, specifically, the hardness that was making an outline in his pants. But Hillary was a patient woman. She wanted Bill to enjoy every single moment and not feel like this was rushed. She wanted to ravish him and let him feast on her flushed body before they go for the home run. Nice and slow at first, then hot and hurried later.

She felt Bill squirm underneath her, trying to make his hardness come into contact with her center, but Hillary purposefully avoided him.

"Shhhh," she silenced him with a languid kiss, taking his breath away. "Not so fast, Honey. Just sit back and relax. I promise it will be worth your while."

Bill nodded obediently, keeping himself from exploding.

Smirking, Hillary opened his shirt and her mouth immediately latched to his nipple, eliciting a sexy gasp from his mouth. Fuck. He sounded so fucking sexy that her hips moved on their own. Her still covered pussy came into contact with his cock, and they jumped in unison as a jolt of pleasure erupted from their centers.

"Jesus Christ, Hilly," he moaned.

"Sorry," she apologized quietly, keeping her voice husky as not to break the mood. She returned to mouthing his nipple, which she found that he was impartial to. Her tongue circled around his nipple, occasionally nipping and sucking them. She couldn't help it. He was just so damn delicious that she could do this forever. The harder she sucked, the louder his moans were, and the louder his moans were, the wetter she became. Her panties were already so soaked that the wetness already damped his pants.

"God, you're so fucking sexy," he gasped in her mouth, his fingers struggling to gain access to her entrance. His fingertips lightly touched her clit, and the effect on her was nothing he had ever seen. She gasped while she dug her fingernails into his chest, but nevertheless, she kept on sucking him. The scene before him was too fucking hot that he could embarrassingly come right then and there, if only he did not bite the back of his cheek to distract him from the erotic vision in front of him. 

Hillary was well aware that his fingers were already crawling around her entrance, and while she was busy pleasuring his nipple with her mouth, her hips were playing a naughty game of hide and seek with his hand. At his slightest touch, she would thrust her hips, not to his direction but to the opposite. She seemed to enjoy making him go after her, and he was happily playing along. The more elusive she was, the more roaring he got, and the more roaring he got, the harder his cock became. But at some point, he got tried of this cat and mouse chase; he simply want to be inside her. 

"Hilly," tipped her chin up wither his other pointer finger, her mouth detaching from his nipple with a "pop". "I can't wait to be inside you."

A dirty smirk gradually formed in her face. "You want me now?"

"Oh God, yes!" Hillary rewarded him with another lick on her lips before kissing him deeply, her delicious tongue doing wonders on his mouth. Before he knew it, his pants and briefs were already down, and she was rolling a condom on his cock, her hand stroking him up and down (Where did she get that condom?!). He broke from the kiss, and he saw her glistening slit underneath his fingertips. God, what a sight. If that was how her pussy looked, pink and juicy, what more if he was already inside. 

"I'm going to go slow, Billy," Hillary warned him, her voice already trembling with anticipation. She settled herself on top of him and he pulled her panties out of the way. Hillary took one last breath as she lowered herself, feeling his thick cock part her walls, twitching inside her. She felt him bite her shoulder and hold his breath, as he held her flush against him. 

"Oh fuck!" Bill bent his head backwards out of sheer ecstasy, not remotely minding that his head hit the elevator wall with a thud. 

"You okay?" Hillary asked with deep concern, but still unable to contain the exquisite pleasure he was giving her. 

He nodded. "Go on."

"Hmmm-kay." She moved ever so slightly up until she was completely withdrawn, her motion so slow and smooth, and then she sunk back down, more forcefully than what she had intended to, and he lost the ability to speak. But that was not to say that his mouth wasn't put to good use. As Hillary began thrusting, his mouth latched to her beautiful neck and nipped her ever so sensitive skin . 

He had to stop her occasionally. He let her pick up the pace, but at some point, when he felt that he was going to cum, he would tell her to stop and he would rub her clit as he calmed himself a bit. She would squirm on top of him. Once he thought she was going to come, he let her ride him hard and fast until her breath gave out, and the back of her eyelids exploded in white light as she stilled, while his hips pumped in her stead, letter her ride it all out until she came around him. Her juices spilled all around his cock, and her heat was seeping through the condom. If that was how she felt with the condom, Bill was probably going to go nuts if she rode him bareback. 

Two, three, four more strokes and he too allowed himself top come undone, not in the silent way that she had, but with a cry that probably could shame a caveman. His hands flew around her middle, hugging her tightly. Sated but exhausted, the two of them meld in each other's bodies like deflated balloons. Their breathing had calmed down, and they were heavy covered with sweat.  

"That was fucking amazing, Billy," Hillary panted in his chest. "God, I think I ran a marathon."

"Did I tire you?" he kissed the top of her head. 

"Yeah. But you now what's funny?"

"What?"

"I am exhausted as fuck, but I want to do it again."

Bill smirked on her forehead as he checked the time on his watch.

"It's just 3:30AM. We can still squeeze in one more."

Hillary bit her lip, smiling. 

"I like the sound of that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, the story will still go on after the elevator doors have opened, after they have rested and Bill won the the NY primary ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Round 2!!!

**_April 7, 1992_**  
**_Somewhere between 10th and 11th Floor_**  
**_37th Street Towers_**  
**_03:03_** ** _AM_**

Hillary stared at Bill dreamily as he played with her hair. He was spooning her from behind, feeling content in the middle of an uncomfortable situation. She was drifting in and out sleep, but Bill's kisses on her shoulder kept her awake. Hillary could be content staying like this forever. Just she and Bill lounging lazily. But at some point, they would probably want a bed because leaning on a hard surface for several hours would not be very good for their backs.

"I love this, Billy," she said with a dreamy quality in her voice.

"What?" he asked, kissing the hollow shell of her ear.

"All of this. I love our conversations. I love your honesty with me. I love your trust. I love how you accepted me without reservations."

Bill felt that she was missing something. "It's that all?"

Hillary knew what he was referring to, but she wasn't going to take the bait. Or at least just yet.

"I love your smile."

"Oh?"

"And your charm and your ability to empathize with people, and your ability to forgive, and your capacity to understand others..."

In her effort to tease Bill, Hillary suddenly found herself enumerating all the things she loved about Bill, and boy the list was quite long. She was amazed at how much she had come to like Bill, even though she was not so approving of how he handled his past relationships, and her awkward joke in the beginning offended him.

Life truly works in wonderful ways, doesn't it?

While Hillary sat in amazement, Bill was still looking for the correct answer to come from her lips.

"Baby, I am glad that you liked so many things about me, but I am looking for a specific answer," he said.

Hillary shot her brow up mischievously. "Oh?"

"Come on, Baby. Say it."

"What?"

"The correct answer."

Hillary finally decided to give in. "Alright," she grinned. "I love the sex."

Bill's smile grew. "That's what I like to hear."

Hillary rolled her eyes playfully. "Men."

"I maybe a gentleman, but I still have some caveman spirit in me," he teased. "I take pride in my sex skills."

Hillary turned to her side to capture his lips in a long, searing kiss. "Boast with me all you want because I don't think the nation wants to hear any more of Bill Clinton's sex skills. And frankly, I don't want other people to experience it."

Bill loved possessiveness. "Selfish, aren't we?"

"Not really. More like I am your girl so your cock is mine and mine alone. Is that understood, Mr. Clinton?"

Bill licked his lips before saying, "Understood, Ma'am."

"Good."

Hillary let Bill hold her, loving his warmth and softness. She was really enjoying her time with Bill, who was already pressing wet kisses on her shoulder, making it hard for to think. She wanted them to work things out. She was confident that Bill would be at her side to sort things out between them, but there was one thing she was unsure about.

Chelsea.

Hillary cherished her baby girl, so naturally it was important for her that she was respected by her daughter. But if she was planning to introduce Bill to her, what would she think? Would she think her Mom was a cheap floozy who slept with a guy she met in an elevator several hours ago? Would she think that she was trying to replace her Dad with Bill? What if she hated Bill? Or what if she didn't want her to entertain guys ever? Hillary's brain had no shortage of reason why Chelsea wouldn't approve of her seeing Bill, and it scared her.

"Baby, you ok?" Bill noticed that Hillary was tense. She stopped moaning when Bill sucked the spot on her neck that he knew would make her putty.

"Sorry, Baby. I was distracted," she confessed.

"What is it? Tell me." His eyes were kind and understanding.

"It's just that..." Hillary interrupted herself with a sigh. "It's just that I am scared of what my daughter will think if she finds out about us."

"If she will accept us, you mean?"

Hillary nodded, grateful that she didn't have to elaborate.

"Well, we can't control what your daughter thinks. She has a mind of her own now," Bill replied, and Hillary was disappointed that he said what she had been thinking out loud. "But I will tell her that you are special, that I am lucky to have met you, and I will take care of you until we're old and gray and use Polident everyday."

Hillary couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, you're such a poet."

"But it's true!" Bill chuckled. "I plan to tell your daughter than I am serious with you, especially if she has doubts about my...character."

"Aww, Bill," she rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. "I've heard nothing sweeter than this."

"You're welcome," he smiled. "I promise, when get out of here, I'll still be there for you."

With a yank at the back of his neck, Hillary pressed his lips back against hers, and arched intohim, but not too much, because she wanted to savor the last few minutes of their unperturbed bliss. Her legs curled around him as if they belonged, and her hand picked was already crawling back to the fly of his pants, where a half-hard cock was waiting for some attention.

"Already?" she teased.

Bill's hands caught her pussy. He flicked her fingers inside her, and she gasped.

"Already?" he shot her retort back, and she suddenly grabbed her cock, squeezing him deliciously. He let our a guttural moan. Hillary smirked at the sound of her triumph.

With Hillary already a sweaty mess on top of him, Bill decided that it was his turn to pleasure her. He continued his sweet assault on her neck and shoulders, lightly biting and sucking her creamy, sensitive skin. He loved tracing her freckles with kisses. His left hand was squeezing her tits and giving all the attention they deserved. Hillary gasped when Bill pinched her left nipples.

"God, you startled me Bill."

"I know. Sneaky, eh?"

"Shut up."

Chuckling, he continued flicking and pinching motions, only stopping to pull his left hand from her pussy and sucking all the juices. Hillary's widened when Bill did that. She was not used to a man who liked pussy juice. Ethan was a good fuck, but he rarely gave her oral.

Bill noticed her fascinated expression. "You like that?"

All Hillary could do was whimper.

He chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

His fingers returned to her pussy, flicking deliciously inside her. He was thrusting two fingers in and out of her, and along with his titty play, the task was doing wonders with his imagination. He was envisioning himself fucking her tits and cumming all over her beautiful chest.

Fuck. The day he would be able to do that would be one blessed day.

Bill purposely ground his erection against her supple ass, and she immediately took the hint. She began to thrust against his pounding fingers, and the effect on them was tenfold. Bill's cock raged and raged as he felt the delicious crack her ass. Oh God, she felt so soft against him. He swore he felt his cock swell more. Blood pounding on his brain and on his cock, he was struggling not to give in and shove himself inside her. So, decided to speed things up. He hastened his ministrations, and he could tell that she wanted this too. She was moaning and thrashing on top of him, and with three more flicks of his finger, she came undone, and relief washed over him.

He couldn't anymore take not being inside her so reached for the gorcery bag and desperately searched for the condom. Thankfully, he picked the right bag. He ripped the foil and rolled the condom over his cock. He guided himself along this drenched slit, teasing her swollen lips with his head. Without any more preamble, he entered her in one stroke, and she let out a satisfied moan. His hot breaths tickled her neck. She felt good around her. So hot and wet and snug. Bill felt as if they were made for each other.

"Move, Baby," Hillary coaxed him.

He had no desire to disobey her, so he started thrusting his hips. There was no need to be gentle with her so he gave her all he got. He fucked her so good, as evidenced by her desperate moans. When their legs began to hurt because of their position, Bill withdrew himself from her and changed their position so they were leaning on their side, and he was spooning her from behind. He lifted her leg to make way for him, and he pushed himself all the way in, the sensation as intense as when he first entered her. His hand reached for her clit and rubbed her in earnest as he pounded her hard.

It was not long after when Hillary finally gave in, exploding in front of him, and followed after three more strokes. Her muscles gripping his cock so tightly when she orgasms was the most amazing sensation. With their orgasms washing over them, they were reduced to a litany of their names and a couple of Fuck's and Oh My God's.

When they have both calmed down, Hillary lay sprawled against him, her head pillowing his chest. She looked at Bill's watch. It was already around 4:30 AM. As if on cue, the speaker system switched back to life.

"Officer Master here. Are you okay?"

"Never better," Bill replied casually, and Hillary let our a giggle. Couldn't argue with that.

"Good," said Master. "We have already fixed the elevator so we expect it to be up and running in a few minutes."

Bill and Hillary looked at each other, relieved at the news but panicked because their clothes were all over the place.

"Governor?"

"Yes?" Bill scratched his forehead.

"Your staff has set up shop in the lobby. They will be here for your morning briefings. And as an apology for the inconvenience, the management would like to offer breakfast to both of you and Ms. Rodham."

Bill and Hillary looked at each other, thrilled at the idea of a breakfast date.

"Sounds good to me," he said.

"Yummmmm," followed Hillary.

"Alright. We'll see you in a few minutes. I am leaving the speaker system on now and the light will be in full brightness again. If you need anything, I'll be able to hear you."

"Thanks Officer," they said in unison.

Reading each other's minds, they scrambled to get dressed and clean the litter surrounding them. Hillary thanked herself from buying trash bags and tissue paper. They have a few minutes left, so they had to make sure they looked like nothing had happened.

"Billy?" Hillary huffed as she pulled her panties up.

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to have dinner in my unit tonight? I'll send Chelsea over to my best friend for the night."

Bill grinned, thrilled at her invitation. He kissed her when she was finally fully clothed.

"Of course, Baby. I'd love to. I'd go straight to your place after I win this damn New York primary."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Finally the elevator doors are opening! Just two more chapters, I think, and then the story is done!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter!!!

_**April 7, 1992**_  
**_Ground Floor_**  
_**37th Street Towers**_  
_**0**_ ** _5:29 AM_**

The elevator doors had opened, and they were met by a flurry of people: security officers, condominium personnel and Bill's campaign staff. Bill and Hillary, carrying her grocery bags, were relieved of their loads by the condominium personnel and were debriefed for the entire situation. They were separated when they were questioned. Before she knew it, Bill was already nowhere to be found. She needed him by her side, but she knew he had more pressing matters to attend to. When she had finished her own debriefing, she looked for him all over the lobby, and to her relief, she found him conferring with his campaign aides, looking visibly stressed and exhausted. His kind, gentle demeanor earlier was now serious and cold, he looked nothing like the Bill Clinton she met and grew close to a few hours ago.

She wanted to talk to him, to ask him if their breakfast date was still on. But judging by the flurry of activity around him, it was safe to say no. She wouldn't dream of stealing some of his precious time when he needed to court more voters. But it was more than the breakfast that was weighing on her mind. It was the question: What would become of them now? Was this goodbye? Was everything that had been said in the past few hours a fluke?

As Hillary watched Bill get more and more absorbed by his campaign, the writing on the wall became clearer and clearer. Exhausted, Hillary picked up her groceries and quietly went up to her unit. When she arrived, found it empty; she presumed Chelsea had already gone to school. After dumping her groceries on the kitchen table, Hilly crashed into her bed for a much-needed sleep.

It was already noon when she woke up. She still felt groggy from the lack of sleep, but she wasn't the type to longue during midday, so went up and cooked herself breakfast. Afterwards, she left her unit to vote in the primary. As she shaded Bill's name, she let out a deep sigh. She wondered if he was also thinking of her at that particular moment. But with the campaign going on, she guessed not. At that moment, she decided that it was best to move on. After all, their romance had happened so quickly. It was bound to end quickly too. There was no reason for her to think his sweet words inside the elevator were more than just ploys to get into her parts. What she had with Bill was a one night stand, and for the sake of the country, not a soul would know.

Afternoon came, and Hillary was home when Chelsea arrived from school. Her daughter jumped when she saw her from the doorway and ran towards her and locked her in a tight embrace. That lifted Hillary's spirits. In Hillary's mind, Chelsea put things in perspective. Why waste her thoughts on a man she met hours ago when there was a daughter who loved her unconditionally? The dreams of romance and a happily ever after almost made her lose her grip on reality. Hillary was thankful that their affair already ended before any of them hurt each other further.  
  


Hillary had cooked dinner from them both, a chore she never thought she would miss. Chelsea was also visibly happy that her mother was back with her, although she got a little sad when Hillary had ordered her to finish her homework after dinner. Hillary was glad that things were starting to go back to normal. She didn't need another distraction in her life. 

Normally, after dinner, she would lounge on the couch and watch TV. Since that night was New York primary night, she would tune in to the live coverage of the primary results. However, she didn't feel like seeing the face of one of the candidates, and she knew it was likely that he would be dominating the news, so she decided against watching TV and curled up with a good book on the couch. 

As if nature decided to make script out of her own life, heavy rains poured outside. The weather was as gloomy as she was. Frankly, she was a bit annoyed at herself for connecting all of her thoughts to Bill. She was supposed to be better than this. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She had moved on from flings that lasted longer than 12 hours. She could do this. 

She hadn't noticed how fast time flew until around 11, she heard a knock on her door. She wondered who could be pestering her late at night.

Without checking who the person in the other side was, she opened the door, and the man who had occupied her thoughts for the last few hours stood in front of her, exhausted and weary.

"Hi," greeted Bill, looking as handsome as ever with his crisp coat and neat, graying hair.  

Hillary tried to speak, but no words came out of her mouth. So many thoughts were running through her mind all at once. She wanted to slap him and let him in at the same time, and then berate him for leaving her like that but she didn't know what to do first. 

"May I come in?" he asked tentatively, He looked so nervous that Hillary thought he might faint.

"Sure," she led him towards the dining table and immediately turned on the coffee maker for him.  

"I didn't see you this morning after the staff debriefed us," Bill tested the waters. 

Hillary tried to be nonchalant as possible. "Oh. I tired. I went up right after because I was very exhausted."

"I see," Bill could sense that she was angry about the whole situation. "I'm sorry I didn't call you to tell I couldn't make it for dinner. I didn't have your phone number and -"

"You're too busy, yeah." She got the cups from the cupboard and the sugar from the spice rack. "I understand."

"I am really sorry."

"No, it's fine." Hillary's voice came out bitter, but at that point, she didn't care about hiding her feelings. "You have a campaign to run and I am just another woman. Don't worry, I won't blab it to the press."

"No, Hilly, that's not-"

"Don't call me that!" Hillary pounded her hand on the countertop. She didn't realize she was this angry at him. She was huffing and puffing, unable to control herself any longer. 

Bill stood up and reached for her shoulder. She swatted him away. He didn't try touching again, but he didn't back off. 

"I am really sorry that I didn't come back to you today, Hilly," he said with the utmost sincerity and remorse. "I know I shouldn't have, so please let me make it up to you. I don't want you to think that this is a one-time thing..."

"Why? Because you think this is going to happen every time you're in New York and you need a good fuck with someone who has a daughter who will not talk to the press because she is afraid it will ruin her daughter's life?" Her voice was already loud enough to be heard inside Chelsea's bedroom, but control wasn't her best trait at the moment. 

"No, it's not like that at all! I came here because I want you to know that I'm in for the long haul, Hilly, and I am committed to being with you, no matter how tough the road will get!"

"And how am I supposed to believe that?" she said testily, her back still on him. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I love you, Hillary."

Those five words seemed to made Hillary's head spin. The rain outside now only seemed like blur her ears. She turned around, still in disbelief. 

"What did you say?" she whispered.

His hand took hers, their fingers lacing, and kissed the back of her hand. "I love you, Hillary. I came here because I want you to know that I am not letting you go. I love you more than I thought I could, and I hope you love me too."

His words sounded so good and tasted so sweet. Deep down, Hillary knew that even if he left hurt her like that, she would run towards his arms the moment he begged for her forgiveness, and that was exactly what she did. She leaped into his waiting body, crushing him by the tightness of her embrace. He held her too, kissing and whispering words of love in her forehead. 

"I love you, Hilly. Never forget that."

"I love you, Billy. I love you so much," she whispered in his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. "Stay with me. Don't leave tonight."

Bill liked the sound of her invitation. "I'd love to. But can I just make a phone call to my HQ? I'll just tell them I won't be coming back to the hotel and to bring me a change of clothes and pick me up in here tomorrow morning."

"Won't your aides be suspicious?" she asked with great concern.

"They will, but I plan to tell them in a few weeks time, and the public not long after. That is, if that's amenable to you. Don't ever think that you're a floozy because you're not. Your my girl and you're going to be properly introduced to the public and to my mother..."

"Billy!" She was surprised that he was thinking that far ahead, and it made him chuckle. 

"Hilly, I am planning for the long term, but none of them are going to happen in the immediate future. For now, I just want enjoy the night with you."

Hillary licked her lips, anticipating her quality time with Bill. "That sounds like a plan.What happened to the primary anyway?"

Bill's smile widened. "You are now looking at the presumptive Democratic nominee for President of the United States."

"Oh Billy!" Hillary couldn't help herself so she jumped into him and kissed him in earnest. Thank God he was quick to catch her, otherwise she could have fallen. She wrapped her legs around him as their tongues battled for dominance. She could feel him hardening beneath the fabric of his pants, and her patience was diminished exponentially. Bill carried her in his arms towards her bedroom, and when he laid her on the bed, they wasted no time shedding their clothes. In a span of minutes, Bill was already inside her, and it was the most amazing feeling in the world. 

"Harder, Baby," she commanded, and he immediately adhered to her orders. He pounded her like there was no tomorrow, and she met his thrusts with her own. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed loudlly in her walls, along with the sounds of their desperate moans. When Hillary came, she pulled a pillow on her face to stifle her screams. Not long after, Bill followed, spilling his seed inside her. 

He slowly pulled out of her and rolled to her side, panting. She too was catching her breaths. They felt like the just ran a marathon. 

"God, we're sweaty," she remarked. 

"I know." And idea sprung from his mind. "Want to take a shower?"

She looked at him and smiled. 

"Want to wash me?" she grinned. 

"I do."

And so, Bill led Hillary to the shower for their bath, where they continued their lovemaking. The rain still pelted against the outside walls, and the chilly winds blew inside the condo, but the heat of their love was enough to protect them from the coldness of the night.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left! *sniff* I will really miss this fic. It's so fun to write and I hope you enjoyed reading it too! 
> 
> After this, I will return to writing The Spoils of War and my new fic, [Farewell, My Beloved](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15747063/chapters/36617958) (which already has 7 chapters finished. LOL, don't judge me, I was bored last weekend!) I will get back to Moaning Glory and I Can Never Live Without You when my schedule isn't as hectic anymore. :3
> 
> Thank you so much to all who read, gave kudos and left a comment!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am finally closing thie fic *sniff* I am going to miss writing it. Thank you to everyone who read and gave kudos and dropped comments!

Bill and Hillary woke up early the next day; he had to catch his flight to Florida because he needed to spend as much time as he had on battleground states. They stepped into the shower together and briefly made love again. When they got out, they hurried to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. He took care of the pancakes, and she, the bacon and eggs. Delicious smells of batter and bacon filled the entire condo. As Hillary was watching over her eggs and bacon, she couldn't help but glimpse towards his direction. He was only wearing a robe (he asked for an aide to bring him a fresh change of clothes and it hasn't arrived yet) and he looked extremely sexy. Bill noticed her glances and he pretended not to notice it, until she stared for far too long that she burned the bacon. 

"Oh no," Hillary turned off the fire and threw the burned bacon away. "I must be sleepy still."

"No you aren't," he said cheekily. "You're staring at me so you forgot to watch over your bacon."

There was no point denying it. "Fine, you caught me," she said and she drew closer and embraced him in his back. "You just look so sexy in those robes."

"Do I?" he grinned. 

"Yes, you are. And I am so fucking lucky that I got to enjoy you," she whispered. 

He turned around so he could embrace her. "And I am so fucking lucky that I have the honor of being your man."

Hillary licked her lips, and that was all the permission Bill needed. He bent down and locked his lips into hers. Unlike their hurried lovemaking the night before, this was slow and languid. When mutually broke off when they noticed that the pancakes were already giving off a delicious smell.

"Aaaah, I missed cooking," Bill said.

"You can cook in here as much as you want. I won't complain," Hillary winked as she flipped the bacon she was cooking.

"I know. I sort of envy you. Don't get me wrong. I've been dreaming of this for years and I am so close that I can taste it. But it comes with a sacrifice, and that includes a normal living. No privacy and everything has to be following protocol."

Hillary stared at him. "It's like your being choked."

"In a way, it is. No room to breathe or let your hair down. It can sometimes drive you crazy," he replied. "But enough about my troubles. I want to spend my remaining minutes with you in a happy note so we'll finish cooking and enjoy this hearty breakfast."

"Sounds like a plan," she smiled.

Bill and Hillary laid out all the food on the dining table, and by that time, Hillary's entire unit was filled by the delicious smell of breakfast food and coffee. The smell reached Chelsea's bedroom and it enticed her enough to get up and join her mother for breakfast.

Still in pajamas, Chelsea was stunned to find a man she only saw on TV eating breakfast with her Mom.

"Mom?" Chelsea hesitated. "Is he Governor Clinton? And why is he-?"

"Yes I am," Bill stood up, a little nervous, and shook Chelsea's hand. "I am Bill Clinton, Governor of Arkansas." Bill made sure he let out his best smile.

"Hi, Governor. I'm Chelsea," Chelsea looked up at the tall man in front of him. "I am 12."

Bill chuckled. "I am glad to meet you Chelsea, although I apologize for not telling you my age."

From behind, Hillary snorted so hard that she almost inhaled her coffee. She was trying hard not to lose herself in a fit of giggles.

"Mom? Why is Governor Clinton with us?" asked Chelsea. Bill froze. He didn't know how to answer the question.

Thankfully Hillary kept her cool. "Sweetie, he was with me when he got stuck inside the elevator. I invited him to stay because he wad very kind to me during those long hours."

"So why is he wearing a robe?" Chelsea was very inquisitive.

Hillary appeared nonchalant, but inside, she was nervous as hell. "He came last night after you went to bed but he was too tired to go back to his hotel so I offered to let him stay in here. He slept on the couch," she lied.

Chelsea wasn't buying anything her mother said, but she was too enticed by the food to eat, so she simply pulled her chair and piled some food on her plate. Chelsea took a bite of the pancake and she noticed something different.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Sweetie?"

"This isn't Pillsbury," Chelsea noted.

"Yes, because Bill made it," Hillary said simply.

Bill, who was back in his seat, was silent as he sipped his coffee. He could feel Chelsea's X-ray-like gaze on him.

"Governor?"

"Yes, Chelsea?"

"May I interview you for our school paper?" Chelsea asked right off the bat. "I know you might be busy but..."

Hillary glared at her daughter warningly, but Bill didn't mind. "Of course. I will have to ask my chief of staff for my schedule but we'll work something out. I am honored to be interviewed for your school paper."

"Yes!" Chelsea raised her hands in victory. "You hear that, Mom? I am going to interview a presidential candidate!"

"Yes, I heard," Hillary gave Bill a grateful look, to which he responded with a sweet smile. "You better prepare your questions."

"I will, Mom!"

All three of them finished their breakfast in a happy note - talking, laughing and sharing storied. When Chelsea had left off to take a bath, Bill and Hillary were quite relieved how the breakfast splendidly ended.

"Whew. The worst is over," Hillary said as she dumped the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. "I am glad Chelsea warmed up to you quickly."

"See? I told you we can make it work. We'll let her see us spending time together and then after some time, we'll tell her. I think she's okay with you finding another man. It's just that she wants to make sure that you will not be hurt again."

"I guess you're right. You'll make a great Dad to Chelsea, I can tell."

Bill chuckled. "I hope so. But for the meantime, _Bill_ will do, and _Bill_ will do everything to make sure she is as loved as her Mother, from whom she inherited her smarts and her strength."

Hillary smiled. "Thanks. Sometimes I wonder how Ethan and I could have produced that wonderful person. We are such awful human beings."

Bill kissed her forehead. "You raised her well, Hillary, and that says more about you than your messy relationship with Ethan."

Hillary's coockoo clock had chimed in to tell them that it was already seven. Bill went back to the bedroom to change (his aide had arrived with this clothes while they were eating breakfast). Hillary was left in the kitchen alone. Her morning was better than what she had anticipated yesterday, or even a few days ago. For the first time in years, her dream of a complete, happy family had never felt this real. But this comes with a heavy price. Would she allow herself and her daughter to be subjected to the vicious attacks that was directed towards her new lover?

Hillary didn't know the answer to that question yet, and she was willing to find out. But for the meantime, she had to go to work. She prayed she wouldn't be stuck inside an elevator again, despite how wonderful her previous experience turned out. She's had enough of elevators to last her a lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is short because I was just laying the story for all of you. The fun part begins at the next chapter :)))


End file.
